Heart of the Forgotten
by Warhawk07
Summary: Damian Taylors was a human teen killed by his ex's boyfriend. Meanwhile, a newborn demon vassal of Overlord Prier named Damian was born having inherited his memories. Is there a connection between the two? PrierxOC
1. Chapter 1

_Prologue_

The hallway was packed with more students than usual. I really didn't notice it as I made my way to my math class; I was more caught up in how I as going to tell my ex-girlfriend that I would never take her back. She had destroyed my heart and made a game out of it, leaving me on our one year anniversary for some football jock.

This had gone down a year ago and I had gotten out of the deep depression that I went into as a result of it only four months ago. I had someone else, someone better, someone who truly cared for me. Now, though, his ex wanted him to leave Rebecca, take her back, and act like nothing had happened. She thought I still had feelings for her.

I did—utter hatred.

Just as I neared my classroom, an older boy in a football jacket stepped in front of me and blocked my path. Oh, great, it was Frank, my ex's boyfriend. Oh, wait, no—my ex's _ex_-boyfriend. He looked at me and sneered. "Well, well, well, look who it is. Damian—just the runt I was looking for." He leaned in close to my face, breathing on me. God, his breath stank. "I heard Wendy wants to get back with you. You think you're so slick, stealing back the girl who left you for me."

He shoved me. A couple of students stopped what they were doing and looked at us, wondering if a fight would erupt. I just shook my head, knowing full well this wasn't even worth fighting over. "Frank, I didn't take her from you. She left you because she still has feelings for me. I don't want her in my life ever again."

"That can be arranged." With that, Frank produced a pistol from inside his jacket, training it at my chest. Everyone in the hall either froze up in fear and shock or panicked. I sighed, knowing he didn't have the guts to pull the trigger. Even he wasn't that stupid.

"Frank, killing me won't fix anything. You'll only be destroying your future."

He tilted his head as if he was actually thinking it over.

"I don't give a damn."

As he emptied the entire magazine into my body, two things happened. First, I realized that I had been wrong about him pulling the trigger. I should have known better.

Secondly, as a teacher tackled Frank to the ground and disarmed him, I heard someone screaming my name. I moved my head slightly to see who it was.

It was Wendy. I could feel bile rising in my throat at the mere thought of her. She ran up next to me and took my hand, tears streaming down her face. "Damian, you can't die! You can't! I only wanted to make you happy."

I wanted to scream in rage at that, but everything I took a breath, my chest burned. "You selfish bitch… You never wanted that. If…if you had, you wouldn't have dumped me and deliberately try and destroy my life." I tried to take another breath, my lungs screaming in pain from the wounds. One of my lungs must have been hit. "I was never going to take you back… anyway."

More tears flowed down her face and she looked like I had slapped her. Her lips quivered. I paid no attention to her pain; I tried to call out to my girlfriend. I knew she wouldn't hear me but—

"Damian!"

Rebecca ran up to me and pushed Wendy out of the way, giving her a dirty look. Wendy was too distraught to notice it, though. I smiled sadly at Rebecca, wincing in pain at the movement. I put a hand against her cheek, wiping away her tears. "I'm sorry it had to end like this, Becky. Did you… did you have a good time with me?"

She smiled and touched my hand, pressing it to her skin. "Yes, Damian, I had a wonderful time. I'll never forget what you did for me." She leaned in and kissed my lips. I ran my fingers through her red, curly hair.

I knew my time here had expired. Everything started to get blurry, the voices becoming distant like they were coming from a tunnel. I took one final breath and closed my eyes. This was what dying was like, eh? I never imagined it to feel so… calm. I felt myself falling into the abyss, never to return.

I didn't even try to resist.


	2. Chapter 2

**I've updated this. Review and leave comments please!**

**Oh, and thanks again to my friend ****KappeZ for letting me use Reigash and his guard. ;P**

_**Part One—Through the Eyes of Another**_

_Ch.1_

The lid to the pod hissed open, light bleeding in through the cracks. The man inside coughed and opened his eyes. Mist filled the room, making it hard for him to see what lay beyond the pod. He could hear a faint voice talking, but he couldn't understand it. He pulled himself out of the pod, stumbling like a newborn infant. He flexed his fingers and neck, his muscles stiff. His eyes adjusted to the light as the mist dispersed. He was in a large, steel-walled room. The only way in or out seemed to be a large door placed nearby. Other than the pod, only a single, small table filled the room. He walked up to one of the walls and placed a hand on it. It was icy cold.

He looked at the table. Clothes were laid out across it. He assumed they were for him, so he walked over and dressed himself. They were a perfect fit. As he finished tying his boots, the door opened, causing him to bend back up and tense. He heard another voice, one he understood.

"Master Prier, I don't think it's very wise to—"

A red-haired woman walked into the room and looked at the lone man. He took in her appearance all at once: semi-curled hair, neck length, with a pair of curled horns set just above her ears; deep, crimson eyes; a fairly large bosom; a violet, strapless shirt that displayed her cleavage; and a pair of jeans. She smiled warmly at him as a penguin-like creature entered. "Master Prier, dood," it said, "As I was saying, I don't think it's a very good—"

The woman ignored the penguin's advice. To the man, she asked, "Are you alright? I know being created can be a terrible ordeal for some."

The man didn't quite understand what she was saying. Created? He looked at himself. "What do you mean, Miss…"

"Prier. I am your master." Leaning in closer, she added, "But Prier's fine when no one else is around." Pulling back, she continued. "Normally, the Master chooses her pupil's name, but why don't you pick one for yourself?"

She had dodged his question, but the man thought about her request for a minute. There was one name that was in the back of his mind that refused to go away. It felt familiar to him somehow.

"Damian," he decided. "Call me Damian."

The little penguin sighed. "How original, dood," it muttered. Prier glared at it, then returned her gaze at Damian. "Damian, this here is Ebonite. He's a Prinny."

"Prinny?" Damian repeated, confused.

"I'll explain it all later. Come. It's about time I introduced you to the rest of my vassals." She turned and walked towards the door, Ebonite following. Damian looked back at the pod and wondered why he knew his own name if Prier said he had been created.

Damian fell back onto his bed, tired. Master Prier had showed him around the castle, teaching him everything he needed to know. For example, he now knew he was a demon—more specifically, a Warrior-Class—and that the world they were in was the Netherworld. Everyone in the Netherworld were demons, but there were two types—human-like, like Damian, and monster-types, like Ebonite, Star, the Nekomata that worked at the infirmary, and Reigash, the ancient Tiamat that served as the head of the palace's guard. No one was more powerful than him, except Prier, but only by a little. Damian had heard Reigash had yet to challenge her. He didn't think the dragon would ever challenge her. Prier herself looked human-like, but she was a monster-type for some reason.

What perplexed him even more than Prier was what Ebonite was: a Prinny. Prier had said they were actually the reincarnated souls of humans who had committed sins, from murder and theft to just living a worthless life. They worked in the Netherworld in order to atone for their sins and hoped to be reincarnated during the next Red Moon, which purified them and sent their souls to heaven to await true reincarnation. If Prinnies wanted to be reincarnated, then why were they extremely lazy? The ones he had seen today didn't even want to do work.

Damian stared at the ceiling, putting these thoughts to rest for the time being. He was tired and wanted to go to sleep, but he couldn't stop thinking about Prier. Something about her got to him. He didn't know what this feeling was. There was so much he didn't know. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, succeeding after a while.

"_Damian, do you love me?"_

_I lay beneath a tree, staring at the clouds. I looked over at the girl lying beside me and ran my fingers through her red, curly hair. "Of course I do," I replied. The girl smiled, moving closer to me._

"_I never want this moment to end."_

_Suddenly, the sky turned blood red. I looked at the girl and realized she was gone. My chest burned and I realized there were bullet holes in my chest, my shirt stained with my own blood. The world turned red and I couldn't breathe. I cried out, but only blood emitted from my mouth. Darkness enclosed my eyes and I heard someone calling out my name._

Damian jolted up, coming out of his sleep. A mere four hours had past. He lay back down and tried to remember the dream again. He could barely remember it, but he remembered the girl. He didn't know of her name, but it felt like he knew her.

But how? He didn't have a previous life; he had been created from scratch, hadn't he?

Hadn't he?


	3. Chapter 3

_Ch.2_

The blade came down hard and fast, barely giving Damian time to evade it. The trainer, a Majin-Class named Achilles, commented on the Warrior's sluggishness. "You have to be quicker if you want to survive battle. Master Prier does not tolerate weak vassals well."

Damian huffed and lifted his axe over his shoulder. The damn thing was too heavy for him, yet Warriors were expected to be able to use both swords and axes with ease. "Yeah, yeah. Can I switch weapons? This thing is not suiting me well."

Achilles groaned in frustration. "We've tried every class of weapon. Even the ones your kind has the most difficulty using. What's left to use?"

"Why not try using your fists?" Prier interjected. The Overlord stood nearby, watching them train. Damian didn't want to fail in front of her. The feeling inside of him was stronger whenever she was around and he didn't know why.

"We have tried only fists, your Highness," the Majin replied, sounding disappointed with Damian. "There's nothing left to use."

Damian looked around and noticed a pair of short swords lying nearby. He walked over and picked them up, twirling them in his hands. "Why not these?" he asked, returning to his position. He made a display with them, spinning them in time so they almost hit each other. Achilles scoffed at the display, but Prier nodded and applauded it. "Alright, let's try them out."

"But, your Highness, those aren't a real class of weapon," Achilles stated. "How can he be a Warrior if he doesn't use a real weapon?"

Prier glared at the trainer. "I don't use 'real' weapons."

"But you're not a Warrior, milady. You're a monster."

A look of anger flashed across her face. The Majin must have said the wrong thing. "Get out," she growled, an aura of energy surrounding her.

"What?"

"Get out!" She was really pissed. Achilles ran out, dropping his sword. Damian didn't know what to do. He looked at his master as the aura dispersed, realizing what she was going to do. She pulled out her baton and faced him. He took a step back, unsure about continuing.

"Damian, what's wrong?" she asked. "I thought you wanted to train."

"I do, Mas—Prier. It's just…" He looked at her, the feeling eating away at him. "I don't think I can beat you." He'd rather fight Reigash or one of his subordinates, Kardahl and Gozma. All three were from another Netherworld, one that apparently been destroyed centuries ago by a power none could battle. All the dragon guards were the strongest of the vassals, so it must have been ultra powerful if even _they_ couldn't face it.

That got her laughing. "Defeat me? Damian, all you have to do is fight me. We're training; you won't get hurt that much if we fight."

Damian looked at her and nodded, getting into a fighting stance. Prier didn't wait for him to make the first move; she lunged at him, swinging her baton at him horizontally. He managed to dodge it and countered by swiping his swords at her, nicking her arm. He instantly regretted it as he noticed a trickle of blood was drawn. Prier took advantage of this moment of weakness to land a downwards blow to the shoulder, striking his neck. Damian stumbled backwards and dropped the swords, grimacing in pain. Prier shook her head, chuckling. "Damian, why are you holding back?" She wiped away the blood. "I told you: we won't get hurt that much."

"That much?"

Prier swiped at his legs, knocking him over. "Yeah, not that much."

Damian got back up and picked his swords up, facing his master. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. He twirled his blades and leaped forward, launching a roundhouse attack. Prier tried to evade it, but he was too fast. Several shallow cuts covered her gut, blood dripping out. She looked at her wounds, then at Damian, laughing softly. "That's more like it," she said approvingly.

They went at each other for a good ten minutes, trading blows. At one point, Damian almost had her, but she turned the tables against him. Soon, they were back at a stalemate. Damian didn't react as he took blows from her baton; in fact, he barely felt them. All he felt was that weird feeling again.

By the end of it, both of them were covered in wounds and blood. Damian found the swords' sheaths and clipped them to his belt, sheathing the weapons. He had found a weapon he was good with. He looked at Prier. "Sorry about the cuts," he apologized. "I guess I got a little carried away."

Prier giggled as she casted healing magic on her wounds. "No problem. Like they say, 'No pain, no gain.'"

"Who says that?"

"I don't know." She walked over to him and casted the magic on him. Up close, he could smell lavender emitting off her skin. Perfume, maybe? He felt nervous, the feeling getting worse.

"Prier, can I ask you a question?" he asked, trying to dull the feeling.

"Shoot."

"Why did you have me created?"

She hesitated, focusing on his wounds. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. It's just that I don't know why I could remember my own name." He sat down as his wounds finished healing. "And I'm not the strongest demon. So why did you create me?"

Prier looked away. "Can… can I get back to you on that?"

Damian didn't understand why she was so content on evading a simple question, but he didn't press on. "Sure."

She proceeded to the doorway. "Damian, I'm planning on heading out to the Cave of Ordeals later and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me?"

"Who all is coming with you?"

"Star, Ebonite, and Victoria. So, will you come?"

Damian thought about it. The Cave of Ordeals was filled with some powerful demons, but he could benefit from the experience gained from battle. "Sure. When are you heading out?"

Prier stopped in the doorway and smiled brightly at him. The feeling burned in his heart. "In about three hours." With that, she left. Damian followed suit and headed towards the infirmary.

"Master Prier said she was headed out soon and that I was coming?" Star said. The Nekomata—a monster that resembled a human with cat ears and a fox's tail—looked back at Damian. The infirmary was quiet today, so she had time to talk to him. "She never asked me to come."

"Then what does it mean?" Damian pondered.

Star thought about it as she put some medicine bottles away. "I don't know, but I do know that she has taken individuals out into battle to train them before in the past. Maybe that's the case here."

"But why would she lie and say Ebonite, Victoria, and you were coming? I asked all of you and you all said the same thing: Master Prier hadn't mentioned anything to you."

Star turned around and sat on one of the tables in the room. "Who knows? Now, can you tell me about the dream you had last night? The one you mentioned earlier?"

Damian told her all he could remember. She just sat there and listened. When he finished, she jumped off the table and reached over to the bookshelf.

"I haven't heard of this ever happening in newborn demons," she explained, "but it has happened in reincarnated ones." She pulled out an old book and placed it on the table Damian sat on. He got off and looked at the book.

"So, are you saying I might have been reincarnated?" he asked.

Star shook her head. "No. I know you were a newborn. Believe me: none of us have been reincarnated in a while."

"What do you mean by that?"

Star flipped through the book, trying to find one specific page. "What I mean is that almost every one of the vassals here has been reincarnated at some point or another. I've been reincarnated twice. The only ones who haven't are Reigash, Kardahl, and Gozma. I think they reincarnated back in their own realm before coming here, because no one is _that_ powerful without reincarnation." She stopped skimming and pointed at one page in particular. "Here we are." She started reading it to herself. Damian took that time to look at what all books were on the shelf. Healing techniques, Surgery for Dummies—you name it, it was there.

Star called him over suddenly. "Damian, listen to this." She began reading the text. ""It has been known that a newborn demon may inherent the memories of another being upon the latter's death."" She looked at him. "Do you know what this means?"

Damian shook his head, utterly lost. "No clue."

"It means you might actually have been reincarnated. You could be more powerful than we thought."


	4. Chapter 4

_Ch.3_

The demons came in fast, attacking from all sides. Damian drove his swords deep into a zombie's chest, pulling the weapons out like he was opening a pair of scissors, rending the zombie in two. He spun around and blocked a samurai's axe that had come out of nowhere. He strained to hold the axe off, his knees about to give, sure that his end had come sooner than he wanted, when Prier smashed her baton into the samurai's face, dazing her. Damian dove into this gap in defense, his left sword digging into her neck, the right into the chest of a Ninja-Class that had snuck up behind him. As they fell, Damian felt new power flowing through his bloodied body; he had gained another level.

Prier looked around and, after making sure the coast was clear, casted healing magic onto both of them. They had made it to the last part of the cave; next was home. Damian sheathed his weapons and took out a bottle of pop he had snagged from Star. He drank it as Prier walked up beside him. "You okay, Damian?" she asked.

He put the bottle away, half the contents gone. "Yes. How about you, Prier? You up to finally answering my question?"

She sat down on a rock, looking at the ceiling of the cave. "What question?"

"Why did you create me?"

She once again hesitated. Damian was sure she'd try and change the subject or dodge it again. "You want to know the truth? Fine, I'll tell you. I wanted someone to talk to, okay? I wanted a friend who would truly listen to me."

Damian sat down beside her, handing her his pop, which she took. "Why, though? You have other vassals to talk to. Why make a new one?"

Prier sighed. "They listen to everything I say, but they don't really _listen_ to what I have to say, you see. I wanted someone who'd care about me and listen to my troubles. That's why I had you created: you were never meant to go into battle, just stay at the castle and be there for me."

"Like a boyfriend?" Damian didn't really know what it meant, but he thought he had an idea. All he knew was that a boyfriend was a guy who was always there for a girl, always there to listen.

Prier's cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "Something like that…"

Damian didn't say anything for a while. The feeling burned in his chest, making him uncomfortable. "I still want to know why I have memories if I'm a newborn," he muttered to himself.

"What do you mean?" Prier asked, having heard him.

"I've been dreaming lately. They feel like memories, but I don't know who is in them. Star thinks I might have inherited someone's memories when I was created, which might explain them, but I'm not so sure."

Prier finished off the bottle and looked at him. "So you think you might be a reincarnated demon?" Something about her voice was different, like she was surprised at the thought but also knew of it at the same time.

"I don't know, but it does sound plausible." The feeling was unbearable right now. Why did it always act up when Prier was around? "If that's the case, then why can't I remember everything?"

Prier thought about it. "Maybe they're there; you just can't access them right now. Give it time." She stood up and summoned the portal home. "Come on now. We have to go now."

Damian got up, just as something surfaced in his mind.

_I looked at the girl. "Wendy, I have a question for you."_

"_What is it, Damian?"_

_I summoned up all the courage I could. "Will you go out with me?"_

_Wendy smiled and nodded, kissing him on the cheek. "Of course I will, Damian."_

Damian shook his head. That was… unexpected. Why it came up then, he'd never know.

And who was Wendy?

A few days, several battles, and a whole lot of wounds later, Damian went back to Star to tell her about the new memories. He had two more that had surfaced unexpectedly. The first one was strangely exciting, even if he couldn't fully understand it.

_The shots flew over my head, splattering on the wall behind me. I popped out of cover and returned fire, hitting at least one of my targets. Bright blue splotches appeared on the man's chest where the shots hit. With the threats suppressed, I made a run for the building, my teammates falling in behind me. They provided covering fire as I ran towards the flag flying in the middle of the room._

The other one scared him. He didn't know why the person whose memories he inherited had done this, but it scared the shit out of him whenever he thought about it.

_I looked into the mirror, tears streaming down my face. I gripped a knife in my hands. The door was blocked so no one would barge in on me. I stiffened my cries as I ran the blade across my wrist, carving the skin in a crisscross pattern. I had to cut the pain out. It was in there; I just had to get at it._

He reached the infirmary and knocked on the door. Footsteps sounded and Star opened the door, letting him in. "Damian, what is it today?"

"I've had more memories. Can we talk?"

"Sure, but you'll have to wait for a minute. I'm treating a patient right now. Please, take a seat wherever." She returned to her table, where an Archer-Class demon sat. Tammy, if memory served. She smiled and waved at Damian, who stood by the door. Star was bandaging Tammy's torso. Damian asked what happened.

"A Dark Knight got me good," the Archer replied. "Barely got out of the way. Luckily, Sarah and Tristan were with me and managed to defeat the monster before getting me out of there." She winced in pain as Star applied pressure to the dressing. "I'm not good at close combat, so, had they not been there, I wouldn't be here." She laughed softly after saying that last part.

Star finished her treatment and Tammy paid her before leaving. Star then addressed Damian. "So, what memories have surfaced?"

He told her about the memories, adding his worry about the last one. "I'm wondering what caused him to do this to himself."

Star shook her head, contemplating the memories. She pulled out two sticks of jerky from her desk and handed one to Damian. "Well, whoever he was, he sure had a lot going on. I wonder what went on with this 'Wendy'."

"I have no clue yet." Damian chewed on his jerky, thinking about something. "I'll tell you if I learn anything else," he promised as he left for the door.

"Where are you off to now?"

"I have to train now. No one ever uses that damn room. Can't let it go to waste, now can we? Besides, I need the peace and quiet while I train." With that, he left. Star just chuckled and pulled out the reincarnation book again.

On his way to the training room, Damian passed Ebonite and another Prinny, this one brown. Ebonite nodded at him, but the new Prinny paused to look at him. By the time it realized who he was, he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello! I'm really happy that you all are watching this! I have Asperger's, so knowing people are reading my work is great! Please review!**

_**Part Two—Life is a Bitch**_

_Three months later…_

_Ch.4_

Prier couldn't sleep. There was too much going on in her head for her to sleep. She remembered what Damian had told her three months ago—about his memories. If he was remembering, then…

She looked at the clock on her nightstand and sighed. It was one in the morning. Maybe she could go to the training room and blow off some steam to forget all this. She got up and changed into her clothes, not even bothering to do her hair. She'd leave it straight for now; no one was up to notice.

The bag swung with each blow. Damian struck the bag again and again with a pair of steel sticks, beating to the tune of a song in his head. He couldn't sleep, once again, so he decided to take this time to train. He always did this when he couldn't sleep. No one ever came in here at night, which was perfect for him. And the cool, stone grey walls made him feel at ease somehow.

He sped up his routine, adding more elaborate attacks to it. Left, left, right, left, straight, upwards, roundhouse, scissor-slice. He swung the sticks hard, his arms vibrating from the impact as he made contact with the bag. He had tried using wooden poles for this before, but they kept breaking from the stress. Steel worked much better, even if it did hurt more. He launched the finishing blow to his "target" as the song in his head came to an end. He took a breath, ran a hand over his short, light brown hair, and sniffed the air. He smelled something familiar. He thought it was perfume. It smelled of lilacs and roses. He remembered who it belonged to.

It was Prier's.

He turned to face his master, standing near the door. The feeling returned—even after three months, it still didn't go away, only strengthening with each new memory he got. She wore her usual outfit, except that her hair was straight. He had never seen her like this before, but he thought she looked better with it straight. He bowed, smiling slightly. "Prier, what are you doing here? Can't sleep, either?"

She nodded, looking at the floor. She obviously hadn't been expecting him to be up. "What are you doing here, Damian?"

"Training. Every time this happens to me, I come down here and train to try and burn off the excess energy." He motioned at her hair as she looked back up, changing the topic. "Nice hair, by the way. You look better with it straight."

Her cheeks flushed red and she turned away from him. "Thanks," she whispered. Damian didn't know why she was acting this way, though he didn't understand a lot about women in general. She recovered and went over to the heavy bag. Damian walked behind it and took a hold of it for her as she threw her punches. Damian grunted as he felt the force of the blows through the bag.

"So," he asked, "I take it you're here to do what I'm doing?"

"Yeah," his master responded. "I've been having trouble sleeping the past few weeks. Don't know what's brought it on." She threw a savage right hook that caused the bag to swing heavily, knocking Damian back a little. He gathered himself and returned to his position. Prier resumed her routine, launching a powerful kick at the bag. Damian was thrown back from the force of the kick. Prier stopped and ran to his side, helping him up. He caught a whiff of her hair. It smelled of lilacs, like her perfume. Or maybe it wasn't perfume; it could have been her natural smell. He had only begun to smell it a month ago, so he didn't know what it was. "Sorry. Forgot about my own strength."

Damian laughed. "So? I still don't want to ever be on the receiving end of that ever again. I hated it during training and I still hate it, even if you're better than a Nekomata." She laughed at that and met his eyes. He thought he saw something in her eyes, something calming and pleasant, but he couldn't tell what it was. There was still so much he didn't understand, but he liked this. The feeling was getting stronger, and this time he didn't see it as bad. Maybe it wasn't. Prier came in close to him and rested her head against his shoulder, putting her arms around his neck. Damian followed suit, putting his around her waist, and they stood there for a bit, not wanting to talk in case it broke whatever spell was at work here. Whatever it was, he liked it. It felt really good.

Eventually, the silence was broken. "Damian, thank you," Prier whispered in his ear. Her breath tickled his skin. "Thank you for listening to me all the time."

"Sure." Damian listened to her, but not because he was supposed to. He listened because… Damn it, he didn't really know why. He just did. "Um… why are we like this?"

Prier looked at him, puzzled for a bit before she realized what he meant. "Why are you asking? You scared or something?" She nuzzled his neck, giggling. "It's alright. Nothing's going to happen if we stay like this for a bit. In fact, something good might happen if we're lucky." He didn't know what she meant by that, but he didn't want to leave. Like the girl in his dream said: _I don't want this moment to ever end._

But sleep had other plans, as he suddenly yawned. "Crap," he said afterwards. "Sorry, Prier. I guess sleep's finally calling."

"Mind if I walk you to your room, Damian?"

"Do you really need to ask?" He was serious; she was his master, after all. She could do with him what she pleased.

Prier giggled, pausing to yawn as well. "I still have to ask." She pulled him towards the door. "It's common courtesy."

He walked up beside her, wondering why her hand was still in his. He dared not try to take it out, in case she wanted it that way. When they reached his room, she let go of his hand and moved fast at him, her lips going onto his for an instance. He was left without breath as she pulled back from him and left him there. He managed to enter his room and crawl into bed, his mind dazed by what had happened.

What the hell just happened?

"She did what!"

Damian sat in the little dining room where everyone ate in, sitting with Star and Tammy. Tammy couldn't believe what he had told them. "Damian, you _can't_ be serious, can you? Master Prier _kissed_ you? Why would she kiss _you?_"

Damian shook his head. "Hell if I know. She walked me to my room and before I knew it, she was at my lips." He picked at his breakfast, thinking it over again. "What's so unbelievable about this anyway?"

Star sighed as she eat her toast. "Damian, you _still_ don't know about love?" When he shook his head, she explained. "Look, love is… well, I can't really describe it, but from what you told us, the feeling you're experiencing is love. And from the way she's been acting, I'd say our Queen has a thing for you. I've known her since she first rose to power and she's never acted like this before."

Damian still didn't get it. She said she only created him so she could have someone to talk to. She didn't say anything about love. But it did explain why she blushed when he had asked if he was her boyfriend.

What was with her lately? She wasn't usually like this.

He was about to voice his thoughts when a Prinny said his name. "Damian? Damian Taylors, is that you?"

He turned to look and noticed a brown Prinny walking up to him. He didn't know who this one was. Maybe it was a new recruit? "You got the first bit right. And you are?"

The Prinny cocked its head. "Damian, it's me, Frank. Don't you remember?"

Damian shook his head. "Sorry, I have no clue what you're talking about." He finished his breakfast and got up to leave when the Prinny spoke up.

"Damian, I'm the one Wendy left you for."

That caught his attention. Wendy… This Prinny was a part of the human's past. He looked back at the Prinny. "Can we talk later? Say… five minutes from now, in the gardens?"

"Sure." With that, Frank wandered away. Damian put a hand to his forehead as he left to wash up, trying to take in what all had happened: Prier, this Frank, the memories. He never believed life would be this hard on him, but then he never knew what life was like to start with.

What was it like for the human?

Five minutes later, Damian walked into the gardens. The Prinny—Frank—was standing by one of the flower beds, smelling them. It turned at the sound of Damian's footsteps. "Damian, how are you?" He wasn't speaking like a Prinny. And he sure didn't look like any Prinny Damian had seen: none were brown.

Damian held up his hand. "Listen: I'm not who you think I am. I'm not Damian Taylors, but I did inherent his memories, so a part of me is connected to him."

Frank was silent for a bit, probably trying to take it in or something. "Do you remember much of his past?"

"A little. Looked like life for him was rough, right?"

Frank motioned for him to take a seat on one of the benches. "Well, it wasn't always, but I guess I had a part in it becoming a living hell for him."

"How so?"

The Prinny looked up at the sky. "You see, he and his girlfriend, Wendy, had been together for almost a year. Everyone believed it was true love, until I came along. Before anyone could react, she had left him for me. At first, I enjoyed watching him suffer. Never did like him to begin with. I had no reason to hate him, but I did. I turned it into a game.

"Things were great for me for a while until Wendy said she wanted to get back with him. After that, I lost it. A couple days after she left me, I stole my dad's pistol and confronted Damian at school. I screamed at him, blamed him for her leaving me, and killed him." Tears fell down his cheeks. "I didn't regret it until I was forced to attend his funeral. The look on his family's face and on Rebecca's… God, I couldn't take it. I realized then what I had done. I had killed someone who never did anything wrong to me. Someone who was loved by everyone. The pain grew to be too much and I killed myself shortly there after. I know nothing can bring him back, but… I hope the fact I killed myself for doing that gives him some comfort."

Damian dared not talk. He remembered that day. He knew what had gone through Taylors head when it all went down. The fact his killer regretted it and didn't want to live on with the guilt didn't bring Damian any pleasure and he had a feeling Taylors wouldn't either. In fact, he felt sorry for Frank.

Why was life so rough for everyone?

Prier looked out her window, into the gardens where Damian was. The Prinny left him sitting on the bench. Prier felt a twinge of pity as she watched him look at himself. He was a fragile person. Despite everything, he was still a child, but he was also a man. A man who could keep himself sane despite everything that went on for him. But she knew who he really was and knew he couldn't last much longer if she kept this up.

She couldn't keep it from him for much longer.

_I ran home, tears streaming down my face. Why had she done this to me? Didn't she love me? Or was this all a game to her? Lifting me up, getting me close, only to smash my heart to pieces when I got close enough to her._

_I ran through the doorway, slamming the door shut. My dad came into the foyer, a newspaper in his hand. "Damian, what's wrong?" he asked. "What happened to your arm?"_

_I gripped my arm and ran past him, up the stairs and into my room. I lifted my hand, looked at my arm and cried. Blood flowed out of the small cuts I had made with my fingernails. The pain I felt from it had canceled out the emotional pain Wendy had given me. Maybe…_

Damian woke up and shuttered. A couple of hours had pasted since Frank had told him about the human he held the memories of, and he had decided to go lie down for a nap. That memory was set right before the one that had scared him, but this one was worse. Damian Taylors never deserved this. But he was dead. Damian was the only one who knew his story and could tell it. He and Frank were the only ones who knew who he really was, and Damian the one who knew what went through his mind in the days that had pasted, from when Wendy had dumped Taylors, to his untimely death.

He got out of bed and walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping in. He had only gone down for a short nap, but he was drenched in sweat. Two minutes later, he got out and dried himself off. Wiping steam off the mirror, he dried his brown hair and looked at the little heart-shaped mark that had appeared on his shoulder last month. It was beautiful, in its own way, like a tattoo. He looked at his arms and noticed a faint line on his left arm, right where—

He gasped, stumbling back. What...what hell was this! He looked at his arm and realized the line wasn't there. He blinked and checked the mirror again. It wasn't there, either.

He took a breath and walked back out to get dressed, trying to forget what he had seen. Maybe what Frank had said was getting to him. He was losing it. There was a knock on his door. He walked over to it, shirtless, and opened the door. Prier stood in front of the door, her hair was straight again. Damian nodded at her. "What is it, Prier?"

She looked at him. He noticed her eyes were puffing from tears. She didn't look that good. "Can…can I come in, Damian?"

He moved to let her in. She took a seat on his bed as he continued to dress. "Damian, I've be thinking about what I did to you last night. I…I shouldn't—"

"I've been thinking about it, too," he interrupted. He turned and lowered his head. "I don't know much about life or love or anything else—I've only been here for three months." He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "Prier, I knew to think all this over. I'm beginning to doubt you created me just so you could have someone to talk to."

She looked at him, her lower lip quivering slightly. "Damian…"

"Prier, everyone calls you the Succubus Queen behind your back, okay? I know what a Succubus is, alright, and you aren't one of them. But I can't be with you when I'm remembering things I never had." He rubbed his fingers over his shoulder, looking away from her. "I'm sorry, but I have to leave for a while, just until I can come to terms with everything."

He left her in his room, not regretting his choice. She deserved better than him, he knew. He was a mess, and he was the only one who could pick himself up and put himself back together.

The dragon flew backwards from the force of the attack into a boulder, a large, fatal wound across its chest. Damian slashed at a zombie, tearing a chunk out of it. A Cleric-Class demon tried healed the monster's wounds, but Damian threw one of his blades at her before she could, the blade going deep into her gut. She fell over, dead, as he finished off the Zombie and went to retrieve his weapon.

Another Warrior slammed into him, pushing him back. Damian recovered and swung his remaining sword at him. The Warrior dodged it with ease and laughed, holding his axe towards Damian. The demon had a dark aura surrounding him. He wasn't a normal Warrior. There was nothing normal about him.

The other demons were all dead, leaving only the two of them. Damian didn't know if he could defeat this Warrior, but he had to try. He wouldn't let anyone defeat him. Damian snorted and threw his sword at the other Warrior. He blocked it as if it were nothing, but had left himself open as Damian charged at him and leapt, smashing his boot into the side of his head, causing him to release the grip on his axe. Damian grabbed the fallen weapon and swung it into the Warrior's hip. He fell over, screaming in pain. Damian dug the weapon out and rolled his shoulders, bringing it down and smashing the demon's face in.

Damian let go of it and looked around, recovering his swords and sheathing them. He had gained several levels in that battle, but he didn't feel any better. Instead, he felt worse than before. He looked at his body and noticed the faint line on his arm again, only this time there were more of them. He wandered over to a tree and sat down, realizing the lines were scars.

Scars Damian Taylor had given himself.

More memories flooded into his mind—not one or two but _all_ of them. He couldn't think; there were too many of them. He bit his tongue, trying to hold himself steady as he was assaulted by the memories, both good and bad. Memories of joy and memories of despair; of love and of fear. He remembered all the times Taylors had spent with Wendy; what had happened after she had dumped him; his road to recovery and how a young, sweet girl named Rebecca Jones had helped him through it all; of when he had got the courage to ask Rebecca out and how she had said yes; his new life with Rebecca and all his friends and family; and finally—of the day Wendy had told him she wanted to get back with him.

But through it all, there was one detail about Damian Taylors that stood out—the little heart-shaped birthmark on his shoulder. Damian looked at it and finally understood what Star had meant by him being reincarnated.

Damian _was_ Damian Taylors. He was a human reincarnated into a demon.


	6. Chapter 6

_Ch.5_

Prier looked at herself in the mirror and cried. Three hours had past since Damian had said he didn't want to be with her right now, that he was too messed up, but she didn't care. The truth was she had lied all along to him—she knew who he really was. She had posed as a student in his high school and met him totally by chance. When she learned of what happened to him, she decided to help him out. Soon she fell in love with him and he had fallen in love with her alias. She had watched him die in that hallway and had asked Death to take his soul to the Netherworld, so she could have him reincarnated into a demon and be with him again. But he didn't even remember who she was or anything.

She wiped away the tears and stared at her reflection. She wouldn't lose him again. She wouldn't let this turned into another Croix incident. God, that would _never_ happen again. She had been in love with a man whose heart was for that of a woman that had been taken from him. Now she was in love with a man that had loved her before, but now could barely remember who he was. She was being selfish, she knew, but Damian couldn't leave her. He meant too much. She knew his heart was for her.

She _had_ to come clean with him.

Prier had an idea of where he had gone off to. The gatekeeper wasn't surprised when she arrived at the dimensional portal and asked her to input the coordinates. Everyone knew by now what had happened, but none were overly surprised at her decision.

As the portal opened, she held back her tears. She'd cry when they were back.

Damian stared off into the distance, kneeling on the ground, trying to collect himself as the memories stormed the gates of his sanity. All the memories he had remembered—they were _his_. _He_ was Damian Taylors. Everything in his life—_both_ of his lives—was ruined. He had lost Wendy to Frank, found Rebecca, and then lost both Rebecca and his life. Now he would lose this one. He was sure of it. He couldn't hold on to anything that he held close. He thought of Prier and the damn feeling returned. Only now, when he was close to losing everything, did he know the name of the feeling—love.

He looked at his arm, at the scars on it. Maybe it was the stress of it all, but he found himself brandishing one of his swords and holding it over the exposed skin. One movement was all that was needed for him to ease the pain. One movement and it would all be better. He had done it before, and he'd do it again.

Or would it really be better? Wouldn't it just make everything worse? He knew from experience that it didn't do anything but cause more pain. One movement would turn into two, then three, until he would faint from the blood loss. He struggled with himself, thrust between his sanity and self-destructive tendencies. His hand shook and he began to lower the blade to his skin.

"Damian!"

He looked up and saw a dimensional portal open up nearby. He dropped the knife as Prier ran up to him and threw her arms around him, digging her face into his shoulder. He began to cry as he realized what he had tried to do. Prier was also crying and Damian didn't feel angry that she had come to see him after he told her he needed some alone time. He put his hand up to her head, cradling it in his shoulder. Right now, she was all he needed. "Prier, I was wrong," he choked through tears. "I thought I could do this myself, but I can't. I'll only make it worse, like I always have. I'm not a demon at all; I'm a fucking weak _human_!"

Prier pulled herself out of his shoulder and nodded, her tears staining her cheeks. "Damian, I know."

"What?"

She sat beside him and pulled her knees to her chest. "The truth is: I lied about everything. I didn't create you because I needed someone to talk to; I had you _reincarnated_ because I loved you. I'm Rebecca, Damian. I'm the girl who helped you out, the one who nearly lost you. I never intended to fall in love with another human, but when I met you, that all changed. I asked Death to—"

Damian looked at her, wiping her tears away with his hand. "What do you mean 'another human'?"

"Damian, I wasn't always a demon. I was born as a human, centuries ago. I lost my parents when I was only eight and I swore I would become stronger to protect my little brother, Cullotte." She looked at him, smiling sadly as more tears stained her face. "Well, long story short, I started to train in the Netherworld, or Dark World, as we called it back then, when I was sixteen. Within a year, I had grown strong—too strong for my human form. The darkness inside of me consumed my body and transformed me into what I am now. Everyone believes I became fascinated by the dark arts, but it was an accident; I never wanted any of this. I decided to focus only on becoming even stronger. I only defeated the previous Overlord about two hundred years ago because I was tired of training and wanted to settle down, but all I want now is to be with you."

"Then why did you go back to Earth? Why become a student?"

"I was curious about how Earth had changed. I never got to go to school back when I was human. I don't know how you could have survived as long as you did." She took in a breath and continued. "I was angry at what humans had become—how they had destroyed their world. I didn't want to be there anymore until I met you. What happened to you got to me somehow, so I felt I had to help you. I never expected to fall in love, but I'm glad I did."

Damian took it all in. They were similar in so many ways. They were a perfect pair. He had even started to date her without knowing it and he wanted that again, but…

"Prier, why didn't you tell me from the beginning?"

"Because you didn't even recognize me," she cried, running a hand through her hair. Damian watched and realized what he had missed; her hair. Why hadn't he noticed earlier? The girl in his first dream, the one who had asked him if he loved her—that had been Rebecca.

His first memory had been of Prier.

He pulled her close to his body and held her there. He didn't even notice the bodies lying everywhere—all he could think of was her. "Prier, it doesn't matter now. I love you and I always will. I remember everything you did for me and what I did for you. I'm here now; I'm not going to leave you again."

"Damian…" She tried to hold back the tears she thought she didn't have since she had cried so many already.

He pulled her face to his and kissed her. She didn't resist him, putting her arms around his body. Everything faded from their consciousnesses until it was just the two of them. He remembered how it felt being with Rebecca—or, rather, Prier—and this was what he remembered it feeling like.

Prier pulled herself away and stood up. "Damian, I think it's time we return home. This is not the place I want to be. It kind of reeks of decaying flesh."

Damian smelled it too. He jumped up and hooked his arms into hers. "Lead the way, _Master_." She laughed at that and opened the portal. When it fully opened, she turned to him and kissed him again. He found this funny—he had left one life with a kiss and now was beginning it again with a kiss.

Prier put her forehead against his and smiled. "Let's get going. Everyone should be asleep by now, so you can sleep in my room tonight."

"You mean…"

She just smiled and took his hand. "I think it's about time we start thinking about settling down, Damian. It's been seven months and we haven't had any _quality time_."

Damian couldn't speak, but he did manage to do one thing as they entered the portal: smile. Seven months… Yeah, three here and the four back on Earth. It'd take a while, but he was sure he'd get over all this. But as they entered the portal, he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to everyone back on Earth.


End file.
